


Flowers, Fun, and Fucking

by Lorese



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Auction, Body Paint, Breast Fucking, Breasts, Cock Slut, Collars, Come Shot, Come Swallowing, Dom/sub, Dominance, Double Penetration, Drug-Induced Sex, Dubious Consent, Erotica, Exhibitionism, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Female Character of Color, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Girl Penis, Group Sex, Hand Jobs, Hypnotism, Large Breasts, Leashes, M/M, Mind Control, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Mindfuck, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Oral Sex, Orgasm, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Other, Partial Mind Control, Penises, Porn, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Shyness, Smut, Submission, Trans, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:29:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26084971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorese/pseuds/Lorese
Summary: A new attraction has moved into the outdoor market! It's so popular even other stall owners like Aubrey become part of the action (or in this case an auction). Mindfucked merchandise is such great advertising!
Comments: 5
Kudos: 142





	Flowers, Fun, and Fucking

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning for lots of mind control, sex, and lots of mind control induced sex! Personalities are altered and erased in the pursuit of fucking.

The crowd cheered and Aubrey sighed. At least the deep breath brought with it the usual, rich scent of flowers wafting through the market. At least it smelled nice.

It had been that way for a little over a month. Dizzy Darling’s Floral and Fun was a novelty shop located at the front of the outdoor market they all shared. It promised entertainment _and_ gifts, which made it a popular date spot for couples and larger groups. Dizzy and her scantily clad assistants passed out bouquets from thin air or flashes of fire — magic tricks that gouged the prices to an outrageous degree.

“Can you believe those simps,” Marcine inquired. “They’d give up their life savings to see her pull a petunia out of her tits.”

Marcine was talkative. Aubrey didn’t mind. Many thought her neighbor to be brusque, but she was just strong-willed — and didn’t let anyone forget it. Her presence also deterred lookie-loos from gathering in their shared, secluded spot.

“People do seem pretty enamored with her,” Aubrey admitted. “Plus it’s Friday.”

“Plus it’s Friday,” Marcine agreed, rolling her eyes.

On Fridays Dizzy held special events: more regimented magic shows, tiny concerts, stage hypnotism. This week was some kind of special flower auction, to be held later that afternoon.

The attractions always drew the biggest crowds. After which lovers young and old bought bouquets by the barrel to take home. 

Some didn’t make it that far… Aubrey had caught a number of them “thanking” each other for the gifts in the parking lot. The whole place was starting to feel more like a carnival than a market.

“I don’t hate the extra foot traffic,” Aubrey added. “Except most people seem to be here for one thing and one thing only.”

“Sometimes two or three times a night,” Marcine interjected. Clearly she had seen the exhibitionists as well.

Aubrey laughed harder than she intended, and had to catch her breath, filling her lungs with more of that sweet scent.

Still… it wasn’t so bad. They had learned a lot from Dizzy! A _little_ attention wasn’t going to kill them. Sex still sold, after all, which was why Aubrey had gotten gradually more daring with her own look.

Her torso bore nothing but a candy striped tube top. Hormones had never agreed with her demeanor, and instead gifted her with boobs that gave Marcine a run for her money, while straining against herring of fabric. She would never admit she was actually quite proud of them.

A tiny knit cap and glasses kept her auburn hair contained. But a pretty little mole below her bottom lip still drew attention to her face. 

She was taller than Marcine, and more muscular from loading, unloading, tinkering, polishing, hammering, and hauling goods between locations. Behind her counter, toned legs rested on thick, comfortable work boots. Though they would also be visible to customers if she stepped back to look at inventory. A garden apron filled with tools of her trade covered Aubrey’s front, but behind it was the shortest pair of shorts she owned. It gave patrons a look at her firm ass if she, say, bent over to look for something. 

Though she couldn’t actually bring herself to _do_ anything like that; the thought that she _could_ gave her a certain thrill. For now, though, onlookers would have to be content with flat stomach and round cleavage. 

If Marcine noticed her shift in wardrobe, she didn’t comment on it. But Aubrey noticed a similar change in Marcine over time. She actually enjoyed seeing more of the woman’s friendly curves and slightly chubby tummy (something else she would never admit). 

Marcine sold homemade beads, candles, crystals, and other New Age-y tchotchkes. She didn’t purport they actually _did_ anything; she just liked the aesthetic.

You could tell that just by looking at her. Marcine wore a tight, tie dye jumpsuit with the legs and sleeves cut off to reveal a number of tattoos. And despite her comment, her own wooden buttons were undone enough to highlight full, pale cleavage much perkier than Dizzy’s.

The hippie chic was offset by old school beauty. Marcine had a Monroe-like face, as well as the blue eyes and short, wavy blonde hair to back it up. Though it was shot through with streaks of blacks. That face was currently dedicated to chewing gum and holding a sour look.

Another cheer erupted. Marcine blew a bubble. 

Aubrey asked Dizzy about her business model once, when the latter still seemed approachable. 

The Malaysian woman was gorgeous, with short black hair and a winning smile. She wore a black one-piece — a bunnysuit, Aubrey thought it was called — exposing her limbs and cupping her mid-sized breasts under perfect little triangles. Fishnets and a top hat completed the sexy stage magician look. The only thing out of place was a nose ring in one nostril. But Dizzy somehow made it look like a perfectly natural part of her mysterious persona.

The whole thing screamed “sex still sells,” but Dizzy had a different answer.

“Some people love to be told what they want,” she explained. “If you’re having fun, you don’t want to think. You want to empty your mind and let someone else take over. I do the taking over! Or I help folks do it for someone else. It’s win-win for everyone. You should try it sometime.”

Aubrey had _not_ tried it. Nor had she spoken much to Dizzy since. The performer was always flanked by crowds these days. Aubrey preferred the quiet of her own little stall. Dizzy brought a lot of foot traffic to the marketplace, but Aubrey’s little corner was still fairly quiet.

Aubrey was shy. She knew that. She was no shrinking violet; she just didn’t love large gatherings. That was part of why she got into nice, quiet work like antique appraisal.

Ironic, then, that she mostly worked out of flea markets. But her discrete nature attracted… discrete clientele. And buying and selling from tents and tables meant she didn’t leave much of a paper trail.

Aubrey knew a lot of her regulars didn’t buy and sell goods acquired by strictly _legal_ means. She also didn’t mind as long as they didn’t share specifics. And criminals (at least the ones she worked with) weren’t the most forthcoming.

Light rock — shopping music — trickled out of the loudspeakers someone had set up in the market in an earlier bid to make the place feel more professional. Customers filtered in and out of the area all morning. 

That included a pretty, wiry woman Aubrey was three-quarters certain worked for some kind of mob. She was a regular, but Aubrey had never worked up the courage to strike up conversation with the attractive stranger. They gave each other small smiles and parted ways.

“What kind of flowers do you even sell at auction?” Marcine was asked Aubrey once they were alone again. “Don’t they just die after like a week?”

“I think they’re selling rare seeds,” Aubrey posited. “And special breeding techniques. I definitely heard her talk about breeding before.”

“What, to get like different colors and stuff?”

“Yeah. Or shapes, sizes, and smells. She said they can have all kinds of different meanings and even effects on people. You know, the language of flowers, and all that.”

“Effects on people?” Marcine scoffed. “There’s no way she actually believes that sort of thing. Trust me, I sell people crystal charm bracelets. I _know_ when people are hocking bullshit.”

Aubrey thought about the handsy lovers in the parking lot and wondered. Then a breeze kicked up, carrying another wave of Dizzy’s patented aroma with it, and she lost her train of thought.

Speaking of Dizzy, though, some of her handsome assistants had infiltrated the corner. Each carried a cardboard box half-full of colorful blooms.

“Good morning ladies,” said one in a bunny suit like Dizzy, sans the hat and gloves. It was pasted to tiny tits under a shock of pink hair, which was shaved at the sides. “Dizzy sent us over to offer everyone some free advertising!”

They pulled up one pink rose to reveal it came with a slim vase, complete with the logo for Dizzy Darling’s Floral and Fun: a spiral pattern made from flowers.

“Free advertising for who,” Marcine muttered. It wasn’t a question.

“Dizzy encouraged all patrons attending the auction today to stop by early and check out any stall with a flower,” they continued. “They should be arriving right about... now, actually. It’s her way of encouraging everyone to participate in tonight’s event. She’s taken care of everything, so you don’t have to think about it at all!”

Without asking, the other attendant put a vase with another blossoming green rose on Marcine’s stall. The pink-haired person did the same for Aubrey.

“Good luck! See you both tonight!”

“We’re not buying anything from your stupid auction,” Marcine huffed as they walked away. “And we don’t need your stupid flowers!”

Marcine made a show of pouring out her vase. She threw the remainder in a small garbage bin behind her counter.

“Oh, what’s the harm?” Aubrey countered. She sniffed her own rosy offering. “They’re just flowers! And they do smell really… mm... good.”

“The problem is the principle. We were here first! We don’t need some hot, horny carnie to drive business for us.”

“You think she’s hot?” Aubrey giggled. Each rapid inhale gave her another whiff of the rose on her table. This one smelled _so_ good up close — much more potent than the weeks of wafting leftovers they got from upwind. “Oh my god. You like her!”

“So what if I do?” Marcine was getting heated. “I think a lot of people are hot. This isn’t about that; it’s about business. And my business senses tell me she’d sell us out in a second. It doesn’t matter if she… it she and her cronies are… super pretty. I just think... I just... Um... What was I saying?”

“You think Dizzy’s hot,” Aubrey chided. Her tiny laughs made her titties jiggle and her balance waver. She leaned on her countertop, even closer to the flower. It smelled so good. Aubrey felt so good! She kept giggling. “You think Dizzy’s hot! You think Dizzy’s ho-ot!”

“Yeah,” Marcine agreed. She sat down on a box of crafts — hard — not too far away from the bin with the discarded flower. “I was saying she’s really hot. But like… so what? I’m hot, too. How come nobody is lining up to… ogle _my_ titties? Wait, no, that’s not the problem! The problem is… that I’m so hot?”

“Mmm…” Aubrey, already several steps behind in the rapidly dissolving conversation, closed her eyes. She concentrated on the last thing Marcine said. “If you’re too hot, you should like, cool down some.”

“Cool down. Sure… That might help.”

Marcine clumsily undid another big button on her colorful jumpsuit. Then another. And another. Her mounds quickly slipped free, past the parting, and remained suspended there by a shiny purple bra. Aubrey was surprised; apparently the neo-hippie thing didn’t extend to letting her melons bounce freely. The effect was very fetching, though…

“That’s better,” Marcine said. “I think? I still feel funny.”

“Wow!” Aubrey opened her eyes and blurted as she saw her nearly topless friend. “You’re right. You are, like, totally hot.”

“Thanks…? But you’re like, acting really strange, Aubrey. How come?”

Aubrey didn’t feel strange, but she did feel funny — a good kind of funny. If she didn’t know any better she’d say she felt high, mixed with something else. It was like every single moment was a fun, brand-new experience for her! She couldn’t stop giggling and couldn’t stop staring at Marcine’s newly freed fun bags.

Looking down at her own skimpy attire, she realized it also made her feel good. But it limited her options. She couldn’t just flash her naked boobs at her best friend! She was too shy. But she had the overwhelming urge to do _something_. A familiar pressure filled her shorts.

“Something’s not right,” Marcine added. “

“Yeah,” Aubrey agreed. “Something is, like, missing.”

“Mhmm. Like I feel kinda… empty. I mean, no!” Marcine shook her head. “Something’s wrong… with us.”

“You both look wonderful to me, ladies.”

Aubrey turned slowly to see a trio of well-built men wander into their location. The first was shorter, and slightly older, but just as handsome as his two guards. Aubrey thought she even recognized one of them as a “regular.” He was a sharply dressed black man with shapely curls sprouting from his head. The other was a white guy. He might have been a pro soccer player on his day off.

Their leader was the only one in a full suit, and he filled it out well. His skin was dark. Though his hair was flecked with gray, it was slicked back to reveal handsome, worn features. Two neat little sideburns wore most of his lifetime of stress; they had gone all the way gray. 

Aubrey’s heart quickened at his compliment. Marcine looked confused.

“I hear you work with some of my people,” the small man said. “It sounds like you do a fine, fine job. And you look fine doing it.”

Curls gave an appreciative nod. Aubrey melted. The flower smelled wonderful.

“But they didn’t mention your friend is quite lovely, too! I might have some business with her once we’re through.”

“What the hell?” Marcine started indignantly, but slower than usual. “

“Oh, I see you don’t have a flower,” the man observed. “Not to worry. Dizzy suggested we bring our own in case of just such an emergency. This should clear things up.”

The soccer player produced something Aubrey hadn’t noticed before: a bouquet of flowers. In one swift motion he brought it an inch away from Marcine’s nose. She gasped, thinking the object might hit her.

“Of _course_ Dizzy is behind all… whatever this is. The only emergency here is that there’s some dick… Ummm… Some dick… D-Dick...”

“That’s right, miss,” the man in charge added. “Dick. Take it deep. Deep breaths. Both of you.”

He was looking at Aubrey. With one hand, he pushed the rose in its vase closer to her. She happily leaned forward to smell it (giving a generous view of her cleavage in the process). 

Deep breaths. Deep dick. Deep… Whatever she was told.

Her world exploded. The heat in her pants grew molten until something inside her began to melt and escape. It was her tension, her shyness — liquefied and dewing around her labia. She was leaky, and horny, and completely at ease!

She was _so_ at ease that Aubrey briefly lost track of how long she stayed that way: mind blank, body fully devoted to sensation. A soft moan (not hers) brought Aubrey back to reality.

She Looked across her stall and saw Marcine. The other woman’s lips were pouted in a tiny “O” of concentration, where the sound had escaped from. Her tits were fully free; her bra nowhere to be seen. The swell of her stomach was a different story. The last remaining buttons had been completely opened or ripped loose. The two taller men stood to either side of her, each groping one loose hooter, and kissing either side of her neck and ears and collarbone.

They whispered something to her. Perhaps that’s what she was so concentrated on! Aubrey couldn’t couldn’t concentrate at all. She finally noticed she had been staring at the display, mouth agape, when drool dribbled down the center of her soft lip. She was actually salivating at the sight of her friend’s supple flesh.

The third man took her wet chin in one hand and turned her to face him. He was fun to look at, too — even more so up close! A dopey smile crossed Aubrey’s mouth.

“You’re an appraiser, yes?”

“Uh uh!”

“And are you good at your job?”

“Oh, yes. Very!” It was true, but Aubrey would have said anything to please the beautiful man just then.

“That’s wonderful. I need someone with more than just a keen eye, though. I need someone who can evaluate important objects using touch, smell, and even taste. Can you do that!”

“Oh, definitely, sir!”

He reached a hand under her cap to pet Aubrey’s head. Her knees buckled as a tiny squirt painted the inside of her panties. She bit her lip to contain a squeal; she didn’t want to interrupt this comforting, assertive presence.

“And you know what the most important item in the world is, don’t you?”

“Uh…” Aubrey was almost certain she could guess what answer would most please him. It was on the tip of her tongue. In fact, she was almost certain it had something to do with tips and tongues! It didn’t matter, though, because she was sure the man in charge would tell her exactly what was important. “I don’t…”

“It’s cock,” he explained. “The most important thing in your whole, wide world is cock. You need to be an expert on it! You need to know it completely with every sense — to find joy in every different size, shape, smell, and taste. You’re an expert, after all. You’re an expert on cock because you love cock.”

“Uh huh,” Aubrey agreed. Her voice grew more excited and more certain as the man’s convincing words poured into her malleable mind. “I love cock. I _love_ cock!”

The man continued rubbing her head, massaging the idea into her putty brain.

“You love all kinds of fucking, of course. You're a complete and total slut. That’s why you took a job where complete strangers let you stroke, lick, smell, suck, and fill and be filled with their sex. Cock is just your specialty! And I’m in need of your expertise right now.”

Gently but firmly, he tilted Aubrey’s head downward. It felt _so_ right to have her actions directed like that. That was doubly true when she saw what he wanted her to notice: his own swollen member sticking out between an undone fly. It must have been there the whole time! Aubrey’s slut mind reeled at the thought that he could have just pushed it up against her at any moment.

“I want you to give this your most _thorough_ appraisal,” he continued. “Do you know how a dripping whore like you does that?”

Aubrey was starting to catch on. This time she knew the answer: “They make cocks cum!”

After all, she couldn’t get a _thorough_ appraisal unless she tasted his spunk — let it fill her, cover her, dribble down and inside her.

“Good girl!” Her reward this time was the man pushing her head down fully, guiding her to her knees which rested bare on the gravel. It should have been uncomfortable. Instead, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to let this man, this stranger, dictate her every move and desire. If he wanted her on her knees, she was _meant_ to be on her knees. 

“I bet a big-titted bimbo like you can really get a handle on the situation. Show me.”

“Yesss,” said the big-titted bimbo.

The command freed her of her earlier inhibition, Aubrey pulled up her top to let the jugs inside flop loose. They came to perfect points on tiny, pink nipples. She so rarely showed off this part of herself. They were much creamier than the rest of her complexion. Itty bitty stretch marks showed where hormones had undertaken such a large-scale project.

The man’s seven inches just barely managed to peek through her valley. Aubrey held the bottom and sides tight against the warm flesh as it leaked heat into her chest. The improperly placed tube top did the rest — compressing the fit from above. Mind rapidly emptying once again, the slut looked up at her instructor for guidance, hoping to be filled with more than just cum, but new orders as well.

“Might as well put that to work,” he suggested. “An appraiser must be gentle.”

Aubrey had never stopped building up spit. So she let it pour out of her open mouth, lubricating the seal between cock and cushion.

While she drooled, she glanced to her side, almost on instinct. She saw a soft, beautiful woman having the time of her life: spread eagle on a countertop, her own boobies jiggling while two hard dicks pierced either end of her.

The soccer player had filled the woman’s mouth. She clung to his ass above her head for dear life. Curls had the front of her jumpsuit pulled as far down as it would go, exposing a sopping wet cunt for him to spear in rhythm with his partner. Her legs were wrapped around his bare knees, as his trousers were dropped around his ankles. Her suspended thighs quaked just as much as the rest of her generous frame.

It was hard to tell with her throat stretched out straight and vulnerable to the sky. Yet Aubrey could have sworn she saw several differently colored roses in the woman’s hair. 

She looked so pretty! Flowers in her hair, dick deep inside the rest of her… Not to mention she seemed familiar. Aubrey’s mind was such a slurry by then that the woman’s name was just on the tip of her tongue…

Tips! Tongues! She was so distracted she almost forgot what she was doing. That was _so_ like a big-titted bimbo such as herself, but not very becoming of a cock-obsessed slut. It was time to show her expertise.

Her tongue slid out over the swollen stub poking through her pumpkins. The salty sweetness of precum instantly rose up to meet her, mingling with her natural lubricant. Aubrey responded by working the girls up and down, alternating sides to let the liquid spread evenly.

The schlong’s owner gripped his hands behind his head and grunted. He was already stunned by Aubrey’s professionalism!

She didn’t stop there. Aubrey sealed her lips around the sloppy tip and pulled her head back. Her mouth stayed in place, however, while her tits rolled tightly over the shaft.

Up and down… Up and down…

She wanted to milk the life-giving goo right out of him. She wanted to drink herself silly on his fuck filling — the only way to honestly assess this gift he had given her.

“Fuck,” he groaned, spreading his fingers through her hair. Aubrey’s hat fell to the ground. Her glasses tipped askew. “You’re a fucking machine!”

That wasn’t true. No machine could do what Aubrey did. This came from years of practice and experience handling delicate objects — knowing when to push harder and when to ease up, how to find fragile areas and where to vigorously rub neglected ones. She had never been a prude before, either. She had handled the cocks of former lovers fairly well. But now sex and artistry were intertwined.

She loved sex! She was great at her job! She was great at sex, which was her job. And she loved, loved, loved cock. Those were the orders she received, so they made perfect sense. She didn’t have to think about it at all!

Several more seconds of kneading and siphoning finally got Aubrey what she wanted: a hard grunt from her patron. Sensing his arrival, the man pushed her back rougly, eliciting a satisfied shriek from the submissive Aubrey.

“Ngh! Shit!”

A great geyser or hot splooge fired into the roof of her open mouth, onto her face, over her bosom. Each sensation was unique, but equally wonderful.

The man flailed for balance. His palm found Aubrey’s table, shaking it with the force of his wobbling. That knocked over her vase, spilling water everywhere and toppling the flower nearer to Aubrey’s face again. 

Her sticky chest heaved as she drew deep gulps of air. She had been so preoccupied with sucking out semen she had forgotten to breathe. Another crisis averted by making cocks cum! She giggled at the thought, drawing even more rose scent deep, deep inside.

She hadn’t _quite_ cum just from the vigor of his pent-up orgrasm (though she’d gotten close). But the aroma put Aubrey into her own kind of refractory period. She felt as demure, docile, and ductile as she had when they started — if not more so. She smiled a cummy smile. 

It was _her_ turn to wobble now. Her brain felt like a big, hungry receptacle. Pooling at the bottom were the orders she’d interpreted so far

Be a slut! Love cock! Big-titted bimbo! Make everyone cum! Fill and be filled! Stroke, lick, smell, suck!

But she could be _so_ much more obedient than that. Something was missing from her life… or someone. Somebody to tell her what to do and what to think. Not just now, but all the time. What did you call someone like that…?

“I see why my people spoke so highly of you,” the man finally managed. “You’re an _expert_ cocksucker. And was the cock to your liking, as well?”

Aubrey, mouth still stockpiled full of ooze she almost didn’t want to swallow, finally consumed her first course. It was warm, and thick, and perfect for a whore like her!

“Absolutely,” she said. She put on the most professional voice she could muster. “Thank you so much for letting me review a… piece like this. I’d rate it as one of the best I’ve ever… inspected.”

To demonstrate her appreciation, Aubrey licked her lips and swallowed more of the cooling cream.

“I really hope you’ll let me examine it again sometime,” Aubrey pushed her cum-carrying cans forward to remind him what kind of high-level service he could expect. “I would hate for this to be a one-time transaction.”

“That depends on how tonight’s auction goes, my pretty petunia.” The man in charge pushed his hair back into place. “We’re just window shopping right now. How about you boys? Just about done?”

Aubrey didn’t quite understand what he meant about the auction, but she followed his gaze to the three individuals from earlier.

The two men had switched sides at some point, so it wasn’t clear whose semen covered which parts of the woman. But she was absolutely oozing with the stuff from her three main holes. The rest puddled between her curves, onto the counter, and into her clothes. She was a happy, milky mess with two hickey pocked tits rising and falling contentedly to the sky. There was a charming little gurgle and previously hidden spunk bubbled up out of her mouth, down the side of her face.

The men nodded. They wiped off their wands in her hair and redid their pants to depart.

“Uh,” Aubrey replied, confusion mounting in her directionless state. She pulled herself back onto shaking legs. The flower rolled off her table as she did, vase and all. “But…”

“See you both again tonight,” he added. And the three departed for other stalls.

“Tonight” was almost upon them. It was getting dark out. Aubrey had lost track of herself again. She wasn’t sure what time it was, when the men intended to see her again, or who else might satisfy the _raging_ arousal they’d left her with.

Her head was clearing a bit, though. The new tenets of her profession — that of a horny, cocksucking sex toy — remained. But she could at least lick herself clean without someone commanding her to do so.

Then there was Marcine…

She hadn’t moved since the men left. She just gurgled and dripped. God, Aubrey was so envious! She had gotten a real, thorough dicking. Not that Aubrey was complaining about her wonderful customer with his wonderful rod. She just needed more.

Stroke, lick, smell, suck, fill and be filled!

Something was still missing. Something was wrong, as Marcine had put it, and her faculties were returning just enough to let her guess. Before she could start, though, her thoughts were interrupted for a third time that day. Though it was a familiar voice.

“Hello again!”

Dizzy’s assistants were back and holding very different objects in their hands.

“Hi,” Aubrey answered with an exhausted little wave.

“Mmmm,” replied Marcine.

“Now that you two have had time to advertise, Dizzy wants you to get ready for the auction.”

The pink-haired bunny smiled reassuringly. Aubrey smiled back. She still didn’t have her bearings, but their confident tone touched something primal in the appraiser, telling her to listen.

It was more than just that, though. Aubrey’s eyes were drawn to the object in the person’s hand. They held it below the waist of their one-piece — meaning Aubrey could see the strokable, suckable package filling the fabric in front of their belly. The hard cock bulged upright against the costume. And Aubrey couldn’t help but obey anyone carrying her favorite object of obsession.

“Kay,” was all she said as the figure approached. Followed by an “oh” of surprise as they clicked the collar they had been holding around her neck.

The black contraption was totally plain — save for a metal loop attached to the leash Pinky now bore. They could lead Aubrey anywhere they wanted now, like a pet. The other assistant propped up Marcine and did the same service for her. She wobbled slightly, feet dangling off her stall, until the attendant pulled her leash taut. 

Marcine gave a tiny yelp. After that she sat up straight, as if at attention. Drool and cum dribbled between two bare titties. Her eyes were wide but dull.

“Um,” Aubrey finally managed. Her brain was mostly back on Earth. “Where are you taking us?”

“I already told you, silly. To auction!”

“But I don’t sell flowers…”

“That’s fine! We’ll get you some more.” And the way they tugged on Aubrey’s collar brooked no argument.

The other helped Marcine down and they marched, titties and deliciously damp pussy plain for all to see, forward through the market. Except no one paid much attention to the mostly nude women…

The stalls were surprisingly populated for so late in the day. Almost all of them had between one and three customers. There was a healthy mix of any given gender or race, but all were well-dressed young adults or middle-aged. And all apparently had very, _very_ intimate business with the proprietors.

Men and women held pleasant conversations with one patron while calmly taking strap-ons and warm rods from behind. One handsome man with piercings (Aubrey only knew him as someone who sold bootleg T-shirts) greedily gobbled knob while diddling two pussies standing to either side of him. A dark-skinned woman she didn’t recognize knelt smiling in the dirt, hands held up like a dog instructed sit, and woofed softly up at an equally brown man who was as handsome as she was beautiful. He seemed pleased.

Everyone, in fact, seemed more than happy with their situation. Those that were awake, anyway. Scattered between the servants and served were a few soundly sleeping shop owners — heads resting on their tables and crates and boxes. 

Aubrey noticed they all had one thing in common. Every other kiosk had a variety of flowers (more of Dizzy’s free advertising) with no obvious rhyme or reason to their placement. Whereas each sleeping beauty had a clutch of very small violet plants.

“They’re missing all the fun,” Aubrey remarked. Pinky giggled.

“Just don’t get too close! Otherwise you’ll fall asleep, too, and miss the auction. Those are only for people with close families or other connections that would ask too many questions. Dizzy said so.”

Aubrey nodded. Though something about that seemed… odd to her. Why couldn’t people with families go to the auction? Come to think of it, why was she going, again? She was still extremely horny and wanted to stop to have fun with everyone else!

But… was that normal? Oh, sure. She was a big-titter bimbo. Of course _Aubrey_ wanted two or three or ten cocks inside her just then. She just didn’t remember everyone else in the market being such sluts. Something was… off. She wished again she had someone to tell her what to do and what to think. Worrying about this sort of thing wasn’t fun at all!

A tug on her leash ensured the march continued.

They eventually reached a large stage: bigger than any three stalls combined. But it was made from plain plywood covered in fabrics that only made it look classy. It was probably easier to deconstruct and transport that way.

The stage was currently bare, with curtains blocking a back area and a sign hanging underneath. It said “Dizzy Darling’s Floral and Fun” in an arch over the spiral of flowers. 

Pinky and friend ushered (read: pulled) an unprotesting Aubrey and Marcine onto the stage. There were metal rings evenly spaced on the wooden floor. To these they tied the two women’s leashes, forcing them once again into kneeling positions.

“There! Now it’s time to make you two presentable.”

Marcine, multicolored bouquet still woven into her sticky hair, blithely drooled away as her helper produced a rag to wipe her down as best as possible.

Aubrey blinked. She wondered why her friend, usually so talkative, had been silent all this time. She wondered why she was being put on display on Dizzy’s stage. Wasn’t she here for some sort of auction?

That didn’t make much sense, either. She was an expert on works of art: antiques, paintings, statues, and throbbing, veiny dicks. Flowers were nice, but impermanent. Besides a few she’d seen pressed under glass she didn’t know the first thing about selling them, or seeds, or breeding techniques (though the words “breeding techniques” sent butterflies tumbling through her tummy).

“Hey,” she said. Pinky ignored her and pulled Aubrey’s soiled tube top over her shoulders. She pressed on.

“Hey! What’s going on? Why are we here? What did… what did you do to us?”

“Nothing much,” Dizzy’s bunny answered. “We just gave some pretty flowers to some pretty ladies. They’re a perfect gift for such a perfect little cocksucker like you. You are a perfect little cocksucker, aren’t you? Sal said you were.”

“Yesss,” came Aubrey’s response before she could consider it. “I love sex. I love… cock.”

That much was true. But it was also true that Marcine and everyone else was acting strange: half-naked and so docile! Except Marcine had said _Aubrey_ was acting strange. But how could something that was so true and right be weird?

While she worked her returning wits on this problem, Pinky undid the garden apron at her hips. Her shorts and panties followed as they slipped them down around Aubrey’s ankles and boots, leaving almost completely naked in the cool night air.

“H-Hey!” Aubrey repeater. “What are you doing! S-Someone might… see!” 

“Oh, pumpkin! People can already see.”

The assistant was right. Some of the well-dressed patrons from the marketplace had begun to filter into the area. They sat in uncomfortable folding chairs that looked ridiculous compared to their formal attire. An audience was building up in front of the stage, chatting with each other or else patiently looking up at Aubrey and Marcine.

“No!” Aubrey resisted. Her old shyness battled her continued arousal. Blood rushed to her face and her cooze in equal volumes. “I don’t get it. What’s happening?!”

“The auction of course. I keep telling you!” The other attendant handed Pinky an equally pink parcel as they spoke.” You’re such a _wonderful_ crop this year, too. When Dizzy plucked me up she couldn’t even find a buyer… Luckily she let me stick around to work for and fuck her as much as she wants! But I’m sure you’ll find a great master, too.”

The word drilled into Aubrey’s mind deeper than the deepest prick her imagination could muster. Her perched thighs spread a bit; her lust temporarily overpowered her mortification. The word “master,” spoken out loud, gave her such a guttural shock that she squirted a tiny stream onto the hard floor without even being touched.

“Mmm,” she moaned. “M-Master…”

It felt almost as good to say it herself. But a dutiful nympho like her always craved external validation.

“That’s right.” The bunny gently stroked their own bulge as they melted into the word as well. “Or mistress. Or whatever they want you to call them. It’ll depend on who buys you tonight.”

“Buys… _me_?” 

“Mhmm. This is an auction after all.”

They unraveled the parcel. It was a plain pink apron: the sort meant for the kitchen rather than holding tools. Except it was clearly several sizes too small for Aubrey. It’s upper corners barely covered her nipples as Pinky tied it around her. It mostly masked her crotch, but only because the leash forced her to hunch over.

Aubrey caught her breath: “I thought it was… for seeds and breeding tips… and stuff.”

“Oh, you’ll take plenty of seed! And some of you will probably get bred. Dizzy offers _lots_ of variety. You four are just the first round!”

As if on cue, two more women were marched onstage by other beautiful bunnysuit-ed companions.

Aubrey saw what looked like a Latina woman in a multi-colored bikini. On closer inspection, though, it was clear she was nude — save for greedy, wet handprints left on her tits and groin. It was paint! And Aubrey suddenly recognized the woman as Alma, an artist who worked on the other side of the square. She was nude save for the impromptu body paint (there were two more splotches on her rump).

Atop her hair was a wreath of crimson petunias.

The other woman was white and blonde and wore a serious gray suit. At least it would have looked serious. Two enormous jugs jutted out of undone buttons, letting thick, dark nipples peek playfully out at the growing crowd.

She wore a crown of bright, purple wisteria.

“You can’t… do this,” Aubrey contested. “We’re not… some wet, willing whores you can make into whatever you want. You’re just… making me think that!”

She looked to Marcine: her strong-willed friend. If she couldn’t stand up for her shy stall-mate, then this time it was up to Aubrey. She tugged at her leash, but it was stuck surprisingly fast to the flimsy material.

“Oh! You’re absolutely right. I’m being silly.”

“Huh? You are?”

Aubrey was as confused as she’d been under the flowers’ direct influence. Was the pink-haired bimbo agreeing with her?

“Yes! I never got you your extra flowers.”

“Wha-“ Before Aubrey could sputter a response she felt a light shift on top of her head. At first she thought it was her hat, but then she realized that was left behind on the ground behind her booth. She looked up beyond her glasses and saw a ring of more pretty pink flowers — just like the one she’d been given earlier! Another assistant had snuck up from behind and placed it there.

An aroma unlike any she’d whiffed up to that point filled her nose, throat, and chest. She couldn’t suppress a reflex to suck it deep, deep, deep inside.

“That’s right,” the nice bunny said. “Deep… Deep… Deep breaths, Aubrey. Like deep dicks filling up your insides. Let them plaster the inside of your mind with thick, warm cum. It’s lubricant for even more fun lessons you’re going to learn once your _master_ chooses you.”

Aubrey squeaked at that wonderful word. She could no longer focus on the flowers wafting their wonderful pollen down into her head, but her eyes rolled up nonetheless. Her jaw went slack and her shoulders relaxed until her hands fell limp onto the floor.

After so much priming, her faculties slipped comfortably back into empty obedience. All that remained were her earlier instructions — Slut! Cocks! Bimbo! — and the new ones to open herself further.

“Deep… Horny… Obedient… Everything you hear from now on is absolutely normal and true. It’s what your _master_ would want. Your _master_ wants a moldable, empty sex toy that loves to follow orders.

“Just hearing someone better, stronger, and more authoritative than a dumb bimbo like you makes you wet. Being wet makes you feel even stupider — even more hopeful that someone will take charge of your mind and body.”

Aubrey absorbed every new impulse with rapt attention. By the time Pinky was done, she knew she was the dumbest, happiest, most impressionable whore on Earth! Anyone could be her master, because everyone was smarter than her. She just needed someone to tell her her place… There was no need to be shy about that. What a wonderful feeling!

It was fully dark by the time they were through. Artificial lights kicked in and highlighted the four flummoxed women onstage. The crowd was in full attendance now. It murmured among itself as it appreciated the merchandise that was about to be sold.

“Now pay attention Aubrey,” Pinky continued. “You’re about to learn even more new things, just like I did once! Make sure you listen closely to everything Dizzy has to say.”

“Dizzy,” Aubrey breathed. “Master?”

“Maybe! But hopefully not. Just listen and obey like a good slut.”

“Listen. Obey. Good slut.”

The attendant giggled one final time in Aubrey’s presence: “Exactly. Good luck!”

Dizzy’s assistants filed off the stage then. The four women were left to stare blankly or smile fully at the strangers a few feet below them. Aubrey felt her own juices pool enough beneath her to touch her outstretched thighs. She was drenched.

All thoughts of helping herself, much less the woman beside her, had been repurposed toward helping her _master_ or _mistress_ (whoever they may be) with… whatever they wanted! Sex, of course, but perhaps helping others learn their place… Nothing was too menial or depraved.

“Welcome everyone to Dizzy Darling’s Fifth Annual Flower Festival for Discerning Guests and Felicitous Friends!”

The voice boomed over loudspeakers so that everyone in attendance could hear with equal clarity. Dizzy herself erupted from behind the central curtain, microphone in hand, magician’s outfit glittering.

“I’m Dizzy,” said Dizzy. “But you already know that. Some of you I’ve known for years. Others I only started doing business with recently. However, you’re all eminently trustworthy and, let’s face it, disgustingly wealthy.”

A chuckle ripples through the audience.

“You’re not here to hear about yourselves, though. You’re here to see them!”

Stage lights shone onto the four leashed women. Marcine and the woman in the suit didn’t even blink.

“We’ve got quite a haul this year, starting with the buxom beauty division. These four lucky gals will go home with one or more even luckier new owners tonight.”

More appreciative sounds shot through the guests as most of them got their first well-lit look at what was up for auction.

Dizzy, herself drawing a few stares, sauntered up behind Alma: the painted painter.

“First up is a recipient of our Altered Perception Petunias! Alma here comes with her personality fully intact. But she still takes triggers with the best of them! Currently, she thinks everything being said and done tonight is completely normal, and will continue to go about her business as usual until _you_ say otherwise. 

“Text her to drop everything and send you nudes at work! Call her up for booty calls she will or won’t remember at your discretion!”

“Sorry,” Alma interjected. “Is this going to take much longer? I’d like to get back to work.”

That drew a roar of laughter. Alma simply looked puzzled, but untroubled as her painted-on garb cracked and peeled to reveal more brown flesh underneath.

“Next is a very special, very late addition.” Dizzy walked leg over leg to the suit woman. “This here health inspector (or should I say ex-inspector) began asking uncomfortable questions about our reputable business just a few hours ago.

There was a smattering of boos. The blonde woman didn’t react in the slightest.

“Now she simply goes by Lot #2, but you can call her whatever you want, because she’s received a healthy dose of our Mind Wipe Wisteria!

“Lot #2 had had half of her once sizable IQ redirected to her libido. The rest of her remaining brainpower is yours to mold as you please!

“Send her back to city hall as your personal spy; give her as a gift to your partner; make her into sex furniture with no will of its own. Lot #2 is a busty blank slate anyone can enjoy! Original identification for retraining is sold separately, I’m afraid.”

Dizzy continued to the third woman in the row: Marcine. She was oozing just as much as Aubrey, but had apparently run out of drool to run down the front of her chest. Marcine had sunk to all fours, however, and let her tongue poke lightly out of her still-open mouth.

“Another interesting item tonight: this one is a wildcard,” continued Dizzy. “Technically known as Marcine, we’re not sure what to make of Lot #3, nor what you’ll be able to make her into at home!

“Some of our more zealous guests…”

A spotlight shone on Sal, the man Aubrey had serviced earlier that day. He laughed along with his peers and waved his hand as if to say “guilty as charged.” Then the light went out and Dizzy went on.

“...gave Marcine what I’m calling the Cock Sleeve Cocktail. She’s had several hours to get acquainted with everything from Moo-Girl Marigolds, to Sex Pet Petunias, to Love Potion Lavender.

There’s no telling _what_ she’ll come out like. We suspect it will be some strange combination of several categories. Though there’s no telling to whose taste that might be. The uncertainty is reflected in the price, of course, but who doesn’t love a blind box?”

Finally, it was Aubrey’s turn. Dizzy completed her runway walk to the sopping slut and put one hand on her shoulder. Dizzy squeezed gently; Aubrey moaned softly.

“Lastly is a nice young lady with an even nicer disposition than normal. You know it, you love it, it’s the classic Domestic Bliss Bundle!”

The crowd outright hollowed and whistler and stomped their feet. Aubrey had never felt so popular!

“Aubrey, a.k.a. Lot #4, is the perfectly obedient sex doll for any occasion. Classic directions include, of course, making your very own barefoot homemaker who’s a bareback harlot in the sack. The giggling sex-retary is also a popular choice for those of you working in offices. Or make her into a live-in sex maid anyone can enjoy! 

“She’s just a sloppy, sex-obsessed doll in need of some new orders. Isn’t that right, Aubrey?”

Dizzy squeezed again. Aubrey, still absorbing the imagery given to her over the loudspeaker, saw stars.

“Yesss,” she cried loud enough for the microphone to pick it up. She couldn’t help but plunge one hand under her apron to cup the deluge and finger her pussy. “Please give your big-titted bimbo new orders, master! I’ll do anything! Anytime! Anywhere!”

The crowd applauded. Sal clapped quietly, looking pleased with himself. Dizzy beamed.

“Let’s start the bidding for Lot #1, shall we?”

* * *

The night proceeded apace. Not a single bimbo from the first batch went unpurchased. Some of them never went back to their previous homes, either. Though all left on the arm of one buyer or another. 

That included Aubrey. The leashed lech was led offstage just as the second stack of sex toys was trotted out for Dizzy to introduce.

Cash was exchanged, but obviously no papers were signed. Even so, Aubrey felt a certain finality when her tether was officially passed off to her new owner — her new _master_.

“Hey there gorgeous.” The sharply dressed woman had sharp features to match. Her black, silk shirt was open enough to reveal a mostly flat chest and skinny frame. Her black hair spilled down in curls that almost seemed to cover her eyes. Tight leather pants made her look even more muscular than she already was.

It was the wiry woman Aubrey had met a dozen times before, but had never had the courage to talk to until then.

“Hi,” Aubrey responded. “Mistress.”

“Good girl,” said the woman. She cupped Aubrey’s chin in one hand. Her skin was rough, but her touch was tender. You like girls?”

“Oh, yes mistress!” Aubrey pushed her full chest forward, three quarters of her boobs visible around the apron she still wore. “I like whatever you want me to. Any place you want! Any position, any job, anything at all!”

The woman chuckled: “We can start by going this way.”

She yanked on Aubrey’s leash. Her slut followed dutifully. They passed by Sal behind the stage, who gave the woman a respectful nod. The mystery woman didn't coolly continued without a second glance. Marcine was still on all fours: sucking Sal's cock for at least the second time that day. Aubrey waved goodbye, but Marcine was focused with such wide-eyed intensity that she didn’t seem to notice.

The pair of women eventually approached not a car, as Aubrey had expected, but a heavy black motorcycle.

“Is this yours, mistress?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“It’s so _big_.”

“Mhmm.”

“I’ll get _so_ cold riding this, mistress! I’ll have to hold onto my big, strong mistress to keep myself wa~arm.”

Aubrey embraced her owner from behind, squeezing her breasts into the bigger woman’s back. The liquid running down her legs was already cold in the night air. Her mistress _was_ quite warm, though.

The other woman pulled away, however, and finished leading Aubrey to the bike. They were finally alone. 

She crossed her arms for a moment, as if working up to something, and turned to face Aubrey. Or she _would_ have. Except the once cool and collected figure couldn’t seem to look her pet in the eye. She blushed as Aubrey had blushed a thousand times before.

“I get that you like girls,” she mustered. “And you say you’ll like anything I tell you, but…”

They stood in silence for a moment. Aubrey waited with bated breath for whatever her wonderful mistress might say next.

“Um, are you okay with, like, everything!”

“Anything, mistress!”

The woman finally figured she had nothing left to lose. She unzipped her leather leggings to reveal a tight pair of matching boxer-briefs. Peeking through the hole was a chubby, flaccid penis wet at the top with anticipation and want.

Aubrey licked her lips at the site of her favorite object in the whole, wide world.

“Cock,” she croaked. “Mistress’s thick _cock_.”

“You’re not… put off?” the woman asked.

“Mistress’s cock,” Aubrey repeated. She fell to her knees for the umpteenth time in she didn’t remember how long.

Without even being ordered, she brought her mouth to the salty tip and suckled. It wasn’t as long as Sal’s, even flaccid, but it was cute and delicious and good and warm and _cock_. The woman’s hen gently rose. Aubrey urged it along by fondling the well-kempt balls beneath. Her mistress gasped.

“Wait,” the woman grunted. “Not like that!”

There was a wet popping sound as Aubrey was firmly removed from her prize. A surge of disappointment was overcome by the joy of her mistress being so forceful with her.

“On the bike,” her owner said. Her confidence was clearly resurfacing, but the blushing didn’t go away. “Like this.”

She pushed Aubrey down onto the back of the motorcycle. Her legs were kicked wide apart, while her torso bent over the frame. Without anything on beneath the apron, Aubrey’s glistening cunt and bare ass presented themselves to her mistress. Sending what was to come, she arched her back, pressing her tits to either side of the cushioned seat. Meanwhile, her bottom two holes became all the more accessible to the person who would order her exactly how to use them.

The woman reached over and past Aubrey’s side. Her wet cocklet brushed against Aubrey’s dry asshole.

The mistress found what she was searching for: a side satchel attached to the vehicle. From inside she plucked a single, lilac-colored rose. For a moment Aubrey thought it was meant for her. She panted, but whether from anticipation or lust, her addled mind wasn’t even sure.

Instead, though, the woman sniffed the flower herself. It sent a quake down her body. She gripped one of Aubrey’s asscheeks for support; Aubrey squealed. The two had barely touched and their reactions were already becoming inseparable.

Seizing that momentum, the muscle-bound woman placed her semi-stiff pecker as deep into Aubrey’s folds as she could manage. A fresh wave of wetness erupted to greet it.

And… suddenly it wasn’t just a half-hard mass. It filled out to its full length _inside_ Aubrey under it was a fully fledged dick. It was such a subtle shift it snuck up on the none-too-bright bimbo. She didn’t notice she was letting out an increasingly intense moan until it was loud enough for her mistress to hear.

Fill… and be _filled_.

The moan became an “Oh my god,” followed by a louder “Oh my god!”

While not as empty as when she got a full blast of her special bouquet, Aubrey’s reduces mind couldn’t consciously process much beyond her programmed pleasure with an honest-to-god hardon inside her snatch. Her hips moved on their own as they received and returned every pump of her partner. With her belly supported by the motorcycle, she could wiggle her ass at any angle to catch every curveball the cock threw at her. And it felt _good._

Her mistress also moaned with botanically induced arousal. She hadn’t felt this relaxed — this unhindered by her secret shyness — in years. Aubrey was a perfect cum receptacle with no inhibitions or preconceptions. All she had was stupid _need_.

The slut watched her own boobs quiver inside her apron from the motorcycle mirrors. That is until her mistress leaned forward, spooning her even as she forced her down. The big spoon slipped her hands under Aubrey’s lone garment and tweaked her tiny nipples. Aubrey shrieked, but neither stopped the gyroscopic pounding of cock cunt. Each motion was a new order; every time Aubrey moved to anticipate it brought the mind-eroding pleasure of obedience.

Meat slapped wet meat for what felt like ages. Even the rose’s magic had its limits, though. The mistress couldn’t keep herself from depositing her seed into such eager soil forever.

She grunted. Her grip intensified. Aubrey felt even more used, and even hotter for it. The deep part of her quivered and clenched down onto raw dick. Her mistress was about to breed her like a flower! She couldn’t help but orgasm at the thought of it — nor at what other ways she might serve after!

There was an eruption. It was a lot like the one Sal had made onto her tits and face. Only this one left her feeling _full_ and _fulfilled_. So many of her new purposes in life were being met at once… She tensed her tummy and cried out with delight.

Her head fell flat on the motorcycle seat. Her body was finally as spent as her brain, and her brain was completely molded around her new self. Aubrey let her owner continue to use her like that, limp and fucked whole at last, as she ran through her refractory period.

She couldn’t help but smile, letting spit run down the bike cushion like her own juices down her body.

“I can’t wait to get you home,” her mistress said, kissing her shoulders as she fell down atop her in a heap. “You’re going to be _so_ good at your job.”

She heard a crowd cheer somewhere far away. It sounded familiar, but Aubrey couldn’t really remember why. Names like Dizzy, Alma, and even Marcine had completely evaporated from her memory. She had a new life now.


End file.
